


If These Wings Could Fly (For The Rest Of Our Life)

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Gallows Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Magic, Missing Scene, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5277515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment of simple magic in all the curses and rituals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If These Wings Could Fly (For The Rest Of Our Life)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [TV Universe](http://tv-universe.livejournal.com)'s _One Little Spark Of Inspiration_ challenge for the prompt "spellbound".

“It rather suits you, you know,” her voice says from the door way, making Kol jump guilty, not entirely sure what he was guilty of yet but with Bex, he was bound to be guilty of something.

“How did you-”

“It’s not much of a witchy secret lair if you leave the door unlocked,” Rebekah jokes before stepping out from the shadows, inclining her head in surrender. “Davina told me where you’d be.”

“Not much of a witchy secret-keeper then,” Kol says, reluctantly closing the book he’d been idly reading. “What suits me? And if you say dying, I swear to God, I’ll jump you into a snotty nosed toddler if it kills me.”

“This place,” Rebekah clarifies, glaring at him for the implication she would. “All locked away, full of your secrets, things you don’t want us to know and nobody can get in, not even you.”

“Yes, it’s all very representational; did you have a point, Bex?”

“Do I have to have a point?”she asks, leaning on the chair beside him. “My brother might be dying and I want to spend some time with him, is that so strange?”

“It is for our family love, I’m surprised nobody’s holding dancing classes ready. And there’s no _might be_ about it.”

“It’s not too late.”

“For the dance classes?”

“Kol...” Rebekah says, her voice soft despite her knuckles turning white from gripping the chair.

“Please don’t Bekah, it’s been too long a day to worry about tomorrow, the day after that...”

“And if you don’t have a day after that?” she asks, her nails digging into the wood.

“Then I won’t have to worry about it, will I?” he tries, smiling up at her with a fake brightness.

“Kol...” she says again, firmer, as though reprimanding him for his effort.

“Just sit down, will you? My shoulders hurt just watching you abuse that chair.” He nudges one of the legs with his foot, kicking it out for her.

“Feel lucky it’s not you,” she warns, taking the seat, hands settling nervously on the table.

He resists taking her hand and then quenches the urge, fingers stilling hers. “It could be worse, this momentary mortal coil we’ve found ourselves in.”

“How could it be worse?”

“I could still be dead; you could still be pretending this isn’t what you want more than anything... It could be raining,” he finishes quickly, hiding the weight of what he’d said under a shrug.

“Well, when you put it like that.” Rebekah shakes her head. “It’s not as simple as that though. Once we’ve figured out a way to fix whatever Finn’s done to you, the first thing you’re doing as a thank you is putting me back in my body where I belong.”

“You’re not even a little tempted to stay?”

She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, passing her reply off as something casually said between turning pages of the book. “A little, perhaps.”

“Then fuck them Bex. It’s the perfect escape, a chance to live your own life for once... have this one on me and don’t say I didn’t do anything for you.”

“You know I can’t do that...”

“I know you won’t,” Kol corrects before she has a chance to remind him of the virtues of family.

“And you haven’t either, have you? You appear to have quite comfortably settled in,” she says back in the same tone, giving him the same look.

Kol stares at her for a long moment, hoping the hypocrisy would fade out between them before he sighed and yanked the book out from under her. “There’s not a spell in there you could do, baby witch. Here...”

He pushes another book under her gaze, full of light hearted magic, the kind done to show off and trick tourists out of a bob or two. “That’s more your level.”

Rebekah casts her eyes over it before shaking her head. “It’s all Greek to me, no matter what level.”

“It’s French, not Greek and you know I know you can speak both perfectly so don’t pull that one on me.” He moves his chair closer to her, leaning over to read the page she’d opened it at. “Here, try this one, you learn the words, I’ll make the bird.”

He rips the next page out of the book, grinning when Rebekah winces. “It’s not an original, don’t worry. It’s from that hokey pokey hoodoo shop around the corner. Learn the words.”

Taking the torn page, he folds it several times, over and over, scoring each edge as she repeats the words, folding and unfolding the paper and turning it over until it vaguely resembled an origami bird. 

“Ready?” he asks as he takes the book away from her and sets the bird down in its place. “Close your eyes, it doesn’t work if you just say the words.”

“And closing my eyes makes all the difference?” she asks with a patronised look.

“You did fine before, when I channelled you. You know what you’re looking for...” he breathes in deeply, as though it were in the air. “This place is steeped in it.”

He watches Rebekah close her eyes, her hand hanging limply over the bird, her voice unsure as she utters the words, “Je vous donne la vie, je vous donne des ailes...” before opening one eye with her eyebrow raised, turning it quickly into a glare. “See. I’m a vampire, Kol, not a witch. I can’t do all this fiddly, feely rubbish.”

“Fine, you are _compelling_ that bird to life then, put some welly into it.”

“It’s paper.”

“And you’re a witch, in a witch, by a witch, in a witch, so what if it’s paper?” Kol says taking her hand, straightening out her fingers. “You think between the four of us we can’t show that paper who’s boss, look...”

He turns her hand, channelling her as draws on the spirits, letting their power pass through her rather than drawing on any of hers, though she wasn’t lacking in that department, he could feel it, pushing at the edges of his own power. Turning his attention away from her and back to the bird, he utters the words, over and over and over until they almost lose meaning and the bird takes flight, lightly fluttering its paper wings before settling back down on the table. 

“Now you try.” He goes to let go of her hand but she holds it tighter. “Alright, you can channel me if you want.”

“I don’t want to channel you, you idiot, I just don’t want to let go.” Pulling his hand closer, she leans in to close the space between them, giving him just enough time to squeeze her hand before she kisses him softly, lingering against his lips even after he pulls back.

“It’s been centuries since you last did that, I must be dying.”

“I know, I’m sorry but what if you-”

“Tomorrow...” he says, deciding quickly, pushing his chair back and kissing her properly, only breaking away when he absolutely had to. “Worry about it tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written in British English because that is what the characters speak, despite the setting.
> 
> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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